


Dress Me Up In My Finest Silk

by Hatsonhamburgers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Auror Partners, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Crack, Crossdressing, Dildos, Dom/sub Undertones, Draco gets a boo boo, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Panty Kink, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, WIP, absolute crack, draco malfoy in high heels, just go with it, more to come - Freeform, then some plot for no reason, tiny bit of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-23 05:38:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsonhamburgers/pseuds/Hatsonhamburgers
Summary: Draco has a secret.  It's soft and lacy, and it hugs his body in a way that makes him feel so sexy.Harry may have accidentally seen Draco's secret, and now it's all he can think about.





	1. Purple Silk With Silver Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, here's a whole lot of sentences where Draco wears silk and satin lingerie and masturbates. I have warnings in the tags, but my dom/sub overtones are really light, I don't think I'm in the mood for much angst in this either. Mostly porn and fluff, a getting together story. 
> 
> I might add some art to it ;)

" alt="Dress_Me_Up" />

Harry sighed and stacked the last parchment in the file and closed it. He added it to the staggering stack in the middle of Draco’s coffee table and sat back on the sofa, stretching his arms over his head. Draco caught a quick glimpse of a sliver of skin as he stretched, then got up quickly to refresh their drinks.

“Oh, no more for me thanks,” Harry said, yawning. “I probably need to head home.”

“Alright.” Draco sat the tumblers down on the drainboard of the sink instead, only a slight bit disappointed that the evening had only included paperwork and work-related topics. It wasn’t often that Harry came over to his tiny flat, and Draco didn’t get out much to socialize anymore. The stayed very busy in the Auror department since they had been promoted to Senior Aurors in the last year, so anything outside of work and sleep was a rare treat. 

Draco had worked his way very carefully up the ladder alongside Harry after graduating Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure he could consider them ‘friends’, but being partners was the next best thing. Not that he would ever tell Harry that he _still_ wished to be friends with him. 

Harry stood and shuffled around the files, shrinking them with his wand, and stuffing them into the pocket of his robes. They were fitted, green and flared at the waist, open to show off the lean line of his trousers. He had taken to wearing more formal robes since they had been promoted, and Draco had to admit that that might have been a contributing factor to his current problem.

The problem of him finding himself more and more attracted to Potter the longer they worked together. 

Eighth year at Hogwarts was a difficult one, and if it hadn’t been for a very humiliating moment when the Golden Trio themselves stood up for Draco when he was cornered by group of students bent on some sort of retribution, he’d not have survived. It was awkward, being the only returning Slytherin, not to mention that he was on strict supervision by the Ministry. Draco was grateful for the help, but acted like an arse as usual, claiming to be fine on his own. Surprisingly, Hermione was the first to break through his exterior, cornering him in the library and making him study for the Arithmancy NEWT with her, since Weasley and Potter were not taking that subject. It was an odd few months of stilted silence, until he broke the silence, complaining loudly about the ridiculousness of a paper that was due on theory of divination- which was a bullshit subject in his opinion. Turned out Hermione felt the same way, and they became friends that day. She now knew most everything about him, and he was happy to say he’d met her muggle parents and behaved himself quite well. He barely broke anything in the house when he visited for dinner- they shouldn’t have asked him to help with setting the table. But he’d tried doing it the muggle way, and that was what counted. The two Dr. Grangers were hopeful that he was courting their daughter, but Hermione smiled and told them he was gay. He was surprised she’d picked up on that- but then again, she was the smartest witch of her age. A fact she liked to remind him whenever they argued. If she had her way, she’d be Minister of Magic by the time she was 30. 

While he never quite warmed to Weasley, there was some sort of grudging respect between them, and they got along at social gatherings early in Auror training, but then Weasley had quit the force to help his brother with his shop in Diagon Alley. 

Potter was something of an enigma. They were polite to one another in Eighth year, often partnered in Auror training, and assigned to the same unit once graduated. They never spoke of their personal lives, and no matter how he tried to wheedle the information out of Hermione, she’d just roll her eyes and change the subject. He’s always felt the tension between them, the end of the war hadn’t changed that even a bit, but it had morphed into something different. Draco realized that he’d been watching Harry much the same way he did in fifth and sixth year, not only noticing the way Potter moved and spoke, but also the exact shade of his eyes and the line of his shoulders. Potter had built some muscle on his once skinny form, and Draco watched time be kind to his body; he was fit, no doubt about it. 

He knew exactly when it became a problem. 

They were on some little routine call when all hell broke loose- a dark wizard they’d been hunting for months had been hiding at a safehouse outside of London which had a noise complaint called in on it. The wizard had rigged the house to explode with several spells, and Draco managed to yank Harry out of harm’s way a split second before the porch roof fell on them, and he’d fallen on top of Draco. The moment that their bodies came in contact, the vibrations of magic in the air, the ozone flavor of Harry’s magic building filling his senses overwhelmed him. Potter had pulled him up and they went after the culprit, business as usual, but Draco was burned with that magic, imprinted with whatever it was that he’d only felt from afar. That thing that was Harry Potter, that magic that seemed to fill the room, touch everything at once. He’d honestly never been that close to it, not even in training when they’d partnered in hand-to-hand combat. He’d walked away from that case that night fully aroused and had to wank furiously as soon as he stepped through his floo. He’d passed out on his sofa afterward, pants still around his ankles, cock out, filthy from the earlier explosions. 

It was starting to become a problem. That case had made their promotion, and they were assigned more cases like it, often spending days together in stakeouts, huddled together in created wizard space, watching buildings, in very close proximity. Draco had a hard time fighting his body’s reactions to Harry, and it seemed to be getting worse. For fuck’s sake, he’d wanked in the loo at work! Just to take the pressure off so he’d be able to concentrate. 

And now Potter had spent the last 7 hours in his living room, sipping wine and writing reports with him. The sofa was the only furniture to sit on in the tiny flat, which had them sitting with their thighs bumping occasionally, and Draco was actually pretty ready for him to leave so he could have a nice, long, drawn-out wank. 

“I guess I’ll see you at the office tomorrow?” Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder and looked over his shoulder back at Draco. _Gods,_ he was delectable. That square jaw, tan skin, and full lips. 

“See you, Potter,” Draco managed half a smile. 

“I told you to call me Harry, Draco,” Harry smirked and stepped into the fireplace.

“Right. Harry.” Draco bit his lip, trying to discourage his cock from getting more hard at that moment. His robes would hide it, but the flush on his neck was always a dead giveaway.

The floo burned bright green and Harry was gone.

Draco sighed in relief. He shrugged his robes off, walking to his bed. His flat was all one room, the area with his bed partitioned off by a lovely Japanese folding screen. He opened his wardrobe, using his wand to move his robes aside to reveal a secret door. He tapped his wand on it twice and it slid aside, a shelf rolling out displaying his second wardrobe. 

Draco’s secret wardrobe.

It was during the occupation of Malfoy Manor that Draco had discovered his affinity for wearing women’s knickers. He was often locked away in his rooms, bored to tears, but unwilling to leave the safe confines for fear of coming across Greyback or the Dark Lord himself. Often the Dark Lord would be away though, and he could venture to other parts of the Manor. He’d come across a closed up section of the West Wing, and found a secret passage between a tucked-away dressing room and his own rooms. It was obviously a lady’s boudoir- definitely not his mothers- he had been in her’s plenty of times as a child. His mother disclosed that it had belonged to a cousin of hers who would visit before he was born. He rummaged through the clothing left there and came across a lovely pair of purple knickers. Out of complete and utter boredom one day, he’d put them on, prancing in front of the mirror for his own amusement. He’d laughed, and rooted around for a pair of heels, _Engorgioing_ them to fit his long narrow feet. They were open-toed with purple feathers adorning the tops, and ankle straps. They’d lifted his arse and made his legs look so long. He had spent the rest of the afternoon, walking back and forth in front of the three-way mirror, admiring himself from every direction. He’d felt so _sexy_ , more manly that he’d thought he would, liking the contrast of lace against his pale, lean muscles. He had ended up wanking that day, in front of the mirror, rubbing himself through the knickers, the fine silk smooth on his cock. 

The buidour became a safe haven during those times, and he had spent long hours trying on countless undergarments and shoes, taking baths, pleasuring himself. He’d light candles and play music on a gramophone and pretend he was a concubine for a wealthy Arab wizard, dancing with scarves and stripping until he was sweaty and naked on the soft carpets, thrusting down onto a small marble statue of a well-endowed man. He’d found a whole collection of them, different sizes and shapes, and he’d discovered the magic of prostate stimulation. 

He’d often think of Harry when he would pleasure himself. He didn’t mean to, but it was at a time when Potter was on his mind constantly- the Dark Lord would not shut up about him, and Draco prayed to Merlin everyday that Harry would come rescue him. He had multiple fantasies of being caught masturbating in the boudoir in the Manor- Harry Potter would burst in, brandishing his wand, seeing Draco spread over the edge of the bath, wearing a red and black corset and silk stockings, fucking himself with his fingers, crying out for Potter to take him. He would imagine Harry stripping and pulling Draco down onto his cock, fucking him until he was screaming, spilling come over the beautiful lace and silk.

He got very good at silencing and locking spells that year, and his Oculomancy skills were only outmatched by his mother’s. 

Draco pulled his favorite pair of knickers and corset set out- dark purple with light purple lace- and unrolled a pair of black silk stockings and garter clips. He had purchased the set in London, a reward for being promoted at work. He laid them gently on the bed and stripped down, shivering in the cool air. His nipples hardened to pink nubs, and goosebumps ran the length of his arms and backs of his legs. He picked up the panties first, stepping into them, sliding them up his legs, enjoying the feel of the expensive fabric against his skin. He settled them into place, cupping his bollocks and covering his cock in the thin silk as it swelled. He picked up the corset, loosening the laces and sliding it over his head, fitting it to his middle, his pink nipples visible just over the edge of purple lace at the top. He pulled the laces tight, relishing the way it hugged him, made him feel safe in its tight embrace. He tied it neatly and started on the garters and silk stockings. Once they were clipped in place, he walked to the other side of the privacy screen and opened a small trunk nestled by a potted plant. It was filled with shoes, all heels, all designer, all expensive. He poke around until he found the silver platform Ferragamos- they slipped on easily, strapped at the ankle and heightened him by four inches. He like the height especially because it meant he could drape himself across the small island in the kitchen area, spread his legs and be fucked from behind. It had been ages since he’d gone to a gay muggle club and pulled, but the last bloke was thick and rough, just the way he liked it, and he came so hard because the shoes were the perfect height. They were his lucky shoes.

Not that he needed luck that night- he was going solo. He strutted around the one-room flat, admiring himself from the different angles the many mirrors he’d hung strategically. He knelt on the sofa, leaning over the back, turning to admire his back as it was reflected in the mirror over the fireplace. He ran his fingers over his arse and stood, going to his bedside table, opening the drawer. He picked through his selection of silicone dildos, choosing a textured purple one to match his outfit. He flicked his wand at the wireless, finding a signal that played muggle blues, low and sultry. He smiled to himself, snapping his fingers and lighting the candles that lined the room. 

He looked around, trying to decide the best place to do it, shimming his hips a little to the song, stepping in time with the music. The sofa had been nice, and the fireplace mirror was angled just so, so he did a couple a deep hip sways, holding the dildo above his head, drawing it down his chin and down his body sensually, shaking his hips as he stepped. He kicked up a heel and threw his head back, feeling sexy and beautiful. He knelt on the sofa, facing the back again, watching his arse sway in the mirror. He dropped the dildo and took his wand, muttering a lube spell that filled his palm with warm liquid. He smeared it on his fingers and went immediately to moving the thong aside to press into his already throbbing hole. Two fingers went in easily- he’d really been fucking himself a lot recently- being around Potter meant having to find that relief more often. 

His fingers slid in and out and he moaned and shuddered. It felt so good, but it wasn’t quite enough. His erection was straining in his knickers, the head peeking out at the waistband dripping precome on the lovely silk. He pulled his fingers from his hole and picked up the purple dildo, slicking it up, rubbing lube all over its pebbled surface. He shifted, holding the back of the sofa with his left hand, and looked over his right shoulder into the mirror to watch as he slowly worked the tip of the dildo in. Its blunt tip pressed against his hole, and he rubbed it in circles, teasing himself, his breathing quickening. He watched his gluteal muscles flex under the straps of the garters, as his hole tried to grip the dildo at every pass. He moaned wantonly, closing his eyes and imagining Potter behind him, teasing him with his cock, whispering filth in his ear. He paused and turned up the volume of the music, casting a silencing charm as well so he wouldn’t have to worry about the neighbors. The bass shook the room, the guitar riffs made his thighs clench, and the sultry male voice howled his pain, wrapping through his insides tightly. Draco closed his eyes and pushed the dildo in, only an inch, the tapered head rubbing his rim. He clenched around it, twisting it at the same time, crying out at the slight pain, making his cock drip just a little more. He wouldn’t touch himself yet, in fact he might just rut against the spot where Potter had just been sitting moments ago, his smell still lingering on the cushions. Draco leaned down, resting his forehead on the back of the couch, inhaling the scent of Harry, masculine, sweet with the aftershave Draco gave him for Christmas. He simultaneously pressed the dildo in further, marveling at the pebbled surface stretching his hole, the bumps massaging his insides, making his cock harden impossibly. He could probably make himself come just like that; Potter’s smell in his nose, his arse in the air, the tightness of the corset as he leaned over in it, the weight of the fancy high heels pulling at his feet as he dangled them off the edge of the sofa. 

He thrust the dildo in and out, rocking his hips back onto his hand, fucking himself on it slowly, drawing it out. He was so close to the edge already, and the dildo hadn’t even made it to his prostate yet. His hips sped up as he pushed in further, a fine sweat breaking out over his back, th chill in the air cooling him slightly. He was burning with desire. The dildo finally slid all the way home, the tapered end passing his prostate and the wider part pressing into it firmly, making his hole spasm around it. He stilled his hand, not ready to come just yet- his favorite part of the song was coming up- and he wanted to explode when it crescendoed. He twisted on the sofa and collapsed face first into the cushion where Potter sat, shamelessly rubbing his face in it. His right hand continued to push the dildo in and out, bringing him to the edge again. He gave in, wrapping his clumsy left hand around his erection, pretending it was Potter’s and stroked himself through the knickers, the slide of the silk disguising his touch, helping the fantasy.

“Harry,” he moaned into the cushion, “just like that, yes, please let me come, please.” He pleaded with the imaginary Potter who held him down to give him relief. “Fuck me harder, fuck me Harry, make me come, darling, yes that’s it, fuck my naughty hole, fill me up, come all over my beautiful knickers.”

He was working the dildo in harder and deeper, twisting his wrist every time he plunged in. His hips were pistoning back onto the silicone and forward into his hand. He turned his face to the mirror over the fireplace, so he could see himself, his vision blurry from being pressed into the sofa- he saw a flicker of green- that was odd, but his eyes rose to the mirror, his body shining with sweat, face still pressed into the sofa, supporting himself with his shoulders, left hand working over silk, right hand punishing his prostate with every thrust, his toes curled in the silver platforms- 

“Harry! Fuck!” Draco screamed as he crested the wave of pleasure, ramming the dildo against his prostate and sitting up on his knees to press it in and hold it against the sofa arm while he whipped out his cock from the knickers, stroked harder with his right hand and massaged his balls with his left as come spurted over his fist, hitting Harry’s sofa cushion. He threw back his head arching his back as he came, his vision fuzzed out for a moment; all he could do was feel the clenching of his arsehole around the dildo as he came down, his hand milking out another spurt of come. His body tingled all over, like magic rushing all over his skin, and he felt exhausted and sated. He carefully pulled the dildo out and flicked a careless hand, wandlessly cleaning the mess. He licked a bit of come off his finger, wishing it was Harry’s, and spelled that clean too. He fell forward onto the now clean sofa cushion, sad that it no longer smelled like Harry after the _Scourgify_. He rolled and stretched out on his back, the come down from such a fantastic orgasm leaving him a bit melancholy. He lowered the volume of the music and looked at himself in the mirror. 

“At least I still look hot as fuck,” he sighed, his fingers traveling over the lace and silk and hard boning of the purple corset, teasing his sensitive nipples. He wondered if he had another one in him, but after checking the time, he decided he needed a few hours of sleep before facing Harry in the office that morning. He stood, gathered the lube and dildo, and strutted to the soft beat of the music as he crossed the room to his bed. Soon he was nude and sliding into silk sheets, nestling in, dreaming of Potter’s rough hands on soft silk. 

 

*********


	2. The Purple Waistcoat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets an eyeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... I just realized what a cracky fic this is, and have tagged it as such. 
> 
> ALSO: I had written the scene about Harry's sexuality as him being pansexual, but I got super wordy and excited and veered off into my own personal journey, then was like, 'hey, I didn't hear the word pansexual at all in the early 2000's, reel it in homeslice.' So he's bisexual for the point of this fic, and yes, I used the word homeslice. 
> 
> Kudos are welcome and so are comments!

Harry stared blankly at his hand. It was covered in come, just like expected when one wanks, but _why_ it was covered in come _this time_ was something quite unexpected. 

He had just meant to pop back in and see if he’d dropped his wallet in Draco’s living room. He’d actually been surprised the floo was still open; usually he had to ring first, but apparently, Draco had forgotten to close it when he left. It’s not that Draco would have heard the floo chime anyway, what with the music being so loud. It wasn’t really Harry’s fault, not really, right? How could he have possibly known what would meet his eyes when he floo called Draco? How could he even guess the strange but thrilling sight of Draco on the sofa, arse in the air, working a purple dildo in, sweat glistening in the candle light? 

But it wasn’t just that. No. 

It wasn’t just catching his partner, his former rival, in the act of pleasuring himself on the sofa. It was catching him pleasuring himself wearing _that._

That...outfit. Those long, black silk stockings, that tight corset with delicate lace, those shining silver shoes with the red sole, arching Draco’s foot just so…

Harry blinked at the cooling come on his fingers. He was still kneeling on the hearth, trousers open, his cock softening while still hanging out in the cool air. His breathing had slowed, but his heart continued to pound, as if he were still in the middle of a marathon. 

He didn’t get to see Draco come. And he’d almost got caught looking- he’d pulled his head out of the floo quickly when Draco turned his face toward the mantle, eyes fixed on the mirror that hung there. Harry had heard him mumbling before that into the sofa cushion, words not audible over the bass of the blues song, but whatever he was saying had made Draco impale himself harder on that purple dildo, thrusting those silk-clad hips back and forth, rubbing his sizable cock through the knickers. He could see the thong clearly when he’d first put his head through, and the sight of it pushed aside to accommodate the purple dildo would stay with him forever. Draco’s hand bracing himself on the back of the couch, the tip rubbing his winking rim, teasing himself. Harry began to feel his prick harden again. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to pull it out of his trousers so quickly. There was so much going on that he’d done it without thinking; tugging himself harshly as his eyes tried to eat up as much information as he could: the way Draco’s rim sucked in the intrusion, the long line of his thighs, the rippling muscle contrasting the tight lacing on the corset, and his feet flexing and curling in those shoes. He came as soon as he pulled his head back, shocked by his own behavior maybe more than he was shocked by Draco’s show. He’d not meant to be a peeping Tom, but it was kinda what it felt like.

His shame couldn’t keep his cock from filling up again at the images of Draco swimming around in his head. He pulled his wand out with a shaking hand and cleaned himself, standing on wobbly legs and heading to the shower. He felt so dirty in so many ways- he wanted to scrub off the experience- let it swirl down the drain and be forgotten. The potential to obsess over this was evident, and Harry was really trying to reel in his baser urges concerning Draco. But his cock was stubbornly demanding attention, and Harry wasn’t keen on taking a cold shower. He noticed his wallet sitting by the sink- he must had left it when he was getting ready to go over earlier. It sat next to the cologne Draco had given him. 

Harry pulled the rest of his clothes off and stepped into the stall, reaching for the conditioner he usually wanked with immediately. Might as well not fool himself- he needed to get off again. 

Then he could pretend it never happened. 

He wrapped a slick fist around himself and leaned his forehead on his other forearm, propped against the tile wall, quickly setting a pace. He tried to will the images out of his head, but all he could see was Drac’s back arching , his greedy hole sucking in that dildo. Harry began to thrust into his fist quickly as he gave himself over to the fantasy- imagining walking out of the floo and removing the toy from Draco, lining up his cock and sinking in, Draco crying out his name over and over, fucking himself back on him. He imagined his hands wandering over the laces of the corset, twisting his fingers in them, using it as leverage to fuck Draco harder. He’d reach around and pull out Draco’s cock, stroking in time with his hard thrusts, making Draco come with Harry’s name on his lips in a whisper, and Harry coming deep inside him, filling him up.

Harry groaned and came over his fist, spattering the shower wall. There was less release than from before, but he felt it down to his toes; the body shudders and tingling in his magical core reverberated, sending waves out through the walls of his shower. He slumped, letting the aftershocks settle, and picked up the soap to clean himself up. He actually needed to get to bed soon, or he’d be a mess at work in the morning.

Fuck. He’d have to face Draco at work the next morning. How was he ever going to talk to him? ‘Hey mate, you seen the Wooster file? By the way thanks for the terrific orgasms last night, I love your bum in those panties?’ 

Harry closed his eyes and giggled hysterically. What the fuck was he going to do? 

Act professional. He was a trained Auror, (he’d killed Voldemort for Merlin’s sake, he could handle not thinking about sex for 8 hours!) and he could use what little Occlumency he knew to box that shit up and put it away so he could get through the day.

*******

Work was absolute shit. 

Because of, first, not being able to sleep much, since when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Draco, bending over on that sofa. Second, said subject of fantasies was sitting a couple of feet in front of him, writing reports and humming the tune to the blues song that was on the wireless the night before. Harry was going to lose his mind.

Draco looked up to see Harry studying him.

“Harry, are you okay? You look dreadful. You’ve really been dragging all day.” Malfoy frowned at him in concern.

Harry looked everywhere in the room but his partner and coughed. 

“No, I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well, I guess…”

Malfoy nodded absently and looked back at his reports. “Not me, I slept like a baby.”

_I’ll bet you did,_ Harry thought, annoyance striking him suddenly. Of course Draco slept soundly, he didn’t have the guilt lingering of being an accidental voyeur last night. He wasn’t having to come to grips with maybe liking blokes in fancy women’s knickers. He wasn’t fighting the urge to stand, cross the room and slip a hand down his partner’s trousers to see what he was wearing under there. 

“Are you going to get tea? Get me a cuppa too, will you?” Draco smiled at him and passed Harry his cup. Harry hadn’t realized he’d stood up, so he took the cup, grabbed his own, and left their office. He breathed a giant sigh of relief when he entered the hall, heading to the break room. Maybe tea would help. It would at least wake him up.

“What’s up, mate?” Ron was in the breakroom, sitting in a chair, feet up on the table, munching on a biscuit, for all in the world, looking like he belonged there. 

“Ron,” Harry said, feeling somehow caught out, “what’r you doing here?”

“Meeting Hermione when she gets off work in a few. Today’s Thursday, and Jones usually brings these chocolate biscuits. So I popped ‘round a bit early, didn’t I?” 

Harry grinned and got the Earl Grey out. “Makes sense. Didn’t come see me, came to eat biscuits. I see where I stand.”

“Don’t feel bad, mate, Hermione is second to food as well. You’re below her now on the scale- she sometimes _makes_ me food. And the shagging, too. I reckon you make damn good pasta, but you’re not my type. Too much cock, I’d say.”

“Never had any complaints about too much cock, so I’ll take that as a compliment, Ron.”

Ron laughed with his mouth full. “You know what I mean. Too many cock. Any cock. Fuck, never mind. You up for a pub night?”

Harry stirred in two sugars into Draco’s favorite blue mug and shook his head. Harry gave the mug to Draco last Christmas, and he used it every day.

“Nah, I didn’t sleep well, think I’ll turn in early.” Harry pushed thoughts of purple lace away and sipped his tea. “Fuck! Dammit, that was Draco’s.” He’d been distracted and drank from the wrong hand. 

Ron laughed again, spraying crumbs. “You must be tired. How are things going with Malfoy?”

 

Harry nearly spit his tea out, choking on it. He set the mugs down and coughed, thumping himself on the chest. Ron gave him a expectant look. 

“He’s fine, Draco’s fine,” Harry said when he could talk. “We are working on the Wooster case-”

Ron’s head dropped and he mimicked snoring, pretending to fall asleep. He jerked his head up. 

“What, what was that? Oh, sorry, I don’t care. I meant how’s it _going_ with the ferret?”

Harry shuffled his feet and looked away. “Fine, I don’t know. I guess it’s fine. He’s, er, still doing whatever he does, and still doesn’t know I exist. I mean, yeah, he’s aware I’m alive, but he, as always, remains utterly unimpressed with me as a person.” Harry was definately _not_ going to tell Ron about Draco’s purple adventures and Harry’s budding career as a peeping Tom. 

Ron looked Harry up and down, eyeing his sharp black robes, fitted at the waist, accented by a violet waistcoat. If he had wore purple because he thought Draco might like the color, wild hippogriffs couldn’t drag the information out of him. He thought he looked pretty good in the mirror that morning, except for his hopeless hair of course, but all Draco had said was, ‘dreadful.’

“You look pretty fit, mate, I suppose, for a bloke... I mean if I was bent, I’d shag you, I guess.”

Hermione took that opportunity to walk in. 

“I really don’t want to know what that was all about, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear my fiance’ saying he ‘guessed’ he would shag you. Horrid, Ron. Any man would be so lucky as to get to shag Harry. You should be ashamed.”

Ron guffawed, stuffing another biscuit into his mouth. Harry smirked and put a warming spell on the tea and kissed Hermione’s cheek as he walked by to go back to his office. 

He called back over his shoulder. “The way you talk, I should be fighting them off. Yet I remain single. Tragic.” Harry walked away, carefully keeping from spilling the tea. 

“Well, we all know why that is, mate!” Ron yelled after him.

“Why what is?” asked Draco as Harry handed him his tea. He hadn’t shut the door when he left, and had no idea how much Draco heard. 

Harry flushed. “Nothing- er, Ron. Chocolate biscuits. You know.” He sounded like a moron.

Draco’s eyebrow went up. “So I hear. Hermione can’t keep them at home. She’s worried she’ll come home one day and Weasley will have drowned himself in them. She has to keep stomach ache potion on hand constantly. It’s a wonder Weasley’s not big as a whale. He’s actually quite fit, considering.” Draco casually sipped his tea and picked up his quill.

Harry stood there gaping. It always disturbed him when Draco know something about his best friends that he didn’t. It had been… unsettling when Hermione had insisted on becoming friends with Draco- but Harry had become accustomed to his presence in their lives. Hermione had let slip that Draco was gay, and ever since that day, Harry wanted him. Like really _really_ wanted him. Not just to shag, though he knew that would be amazing, but wanted him in a romantic way. Wanted to cook for him. Wanted to wake up next to him. Wanted to hold him and take care of him. It was such a problem that he found it difficult to speak to him sometimes. They once sat in a stakeout for 7 hours barely speaking because all Harry could think about was kissing his pouty mouth every time he complained about the cold. Draco must have thought he was still resentful over the past the way he was awkward and distant; after all, Harry was always relaxed and easy with literally everyone else. 

Harry was still standing and Draco was looking at him. He ran through what Draco said and tried to come up with something.

“You think Ron’s fit?” Of all things, that was what came out of his mouth. Idiot.

Draco’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Sure, he has a nice body, I suppose. If you like the whole ginger thing. Which I don’t.” Draco looked suddenly flustered and glanced away.

Harry nodded dumbly as he slid into his seat. “I don’t know if I’m into gingers, I suppose.” 

“Okay, what about Ginerva? That’s as ginger as it gets!” Draco arched a brow at at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah. That. Sure, she was ginger, but it wasn’t, er, a...contributing factor in the attraction.”

Draco leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him, his beautiful grey eyes clear and focused. “Then what was?”

Harry cocked his head. It was not usual for Draco to ask personal questions. The image of a silver shoe with a red sole flashed in his mind, and he pushed it back. He realized he suddenly had more intimate information about Draco than he ever had, so maybe he owed him something in return. 

“I don’t know, really. She’s a big personality, Ginny. Fierce, even. It was war time, and it was nice to think about coming home to someone. But in the end, we were just too alike. Neither one of us had much restraint and every night we partied it was like a competition.” He huffed a laugh. “But it was her personality that I found attractive. I guess it didn’t really matter that she was ginger, freckled, female, or anything else. Just… _her_. But that’s neither here nor there. I love her, but not in the way that she wanted.”

Draco looked fascinated. He was openly staring at Harry, his lips parted, listening intently. Harry thought about the last time he saw Draco’s lips parted and blushed, looking away.

Draco cleared his throat. “Bisexual?”

Harry furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“That’s you. I mean, er- I didn’t mean to pry. You just said, ‘it didn’t matter that Ginny was female.’ No matter, ignore it.”

Harry reddened. He hadn’t meant to say that. “I reckon… sometimes I fancy girls. Sometimes, I fancy blokes... I don’t know…”

“Sorry, Potter, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s alright, I just don’t really talk about it. The press is maddening already without them following me to clubs to see if they can catch me snogging some bloke.”

The muscle below Draco’s eye twitched. 

Harry searched around for any way to change the topic off him before he asked accidentally said something about being attracted to blokes in knickers to see how Draco reacted. 

“What about you and Pansy?” Harry blurted. Stupid, stupid, he knew Draco was gay, why would he bring up that ancient jealousy?

“What about Pansy?” Draco twitched a smile that time.

Harry fumbled. Draco always did this to him. Flipped the script and turned him into a bumbling mess with a few words. He almost missed having Draco as an enemy- at least he always had words ready to fling at him.

“I just meant...you two seemed close, I guess,” Harry said lamely. “I thought you were, _together_ in school.”

Draco threw back his head and laughed. Harry stared at his throat, long and pale. He bit his lip, suppressing his urge to bite and suck it.

“Merlin, Potter! You bloody well know I’m gay, why would you even care about Pansy Parkinson? Winning _personality_ and good friend that she was, she was _lacking_ certain anatomy, for my tastes. Her family left for the continent eighth year. We don’t keep in touch much anymore.” 

Harry nodded. He had no response to that, except for a tightening in his pants when Draco talked about liking cock so openly. He shuffled some papers around on his desk, pretending to work, hoping Draco would drop it. There was a huff from across the room and Draco stood, leaning over to put a file into his briefcase. Harry’s eyes fixed on his arse, wondering again if there was lace and silk under his trousers. He was still looking when Draco turned quickly, catching him in the act. He snapped his eyes up to Draco’s face, an apology on his lips, expecting a smirk or snide remark, but instead, Draco blushed and swirled his robes, leaving the room in a flash. 

Harry was left wonder what the hell had just happened.


	3. Black Work Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco can't help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I do some art with this? I want to, but I'd have to somehow do it when my family isn't around which is never. Bunch of nosy people.

Draco rushed to the little wizard’s room, trying to desperately think of Umbridge or dementors to keep from shooting a load in his pants. Harry had been staring at his arse. _Definitely_ staring at his arse. Draco’s already interested cock had reacted at once, so he had covered it with his robes and took off.

The bathroom was empty, thank Merlin. He twisted the lock into place, and fumbled open his trousers. He worked his hand into his usual black boxer-briefs he wore on the job, freeing his cock. As soon as it hit the air, it swelled quickly in his hand. He was pulling on it fast and hard, damning Potter for looking so fuckable that day. He could hardly concentrate with Harry sitting over there wearing a _purple_ waistcoat (so very close to the color of his favorite dildo), tight trousers over his bum, his hair looking like he’d just been shagged. Draco had somehow only kept his cock at half mast most of the day (the tight briefs kept his wayward prick tucked against him) but _Harry looked at his arse_ after talking about his not-being-straight, no less, and Draco had to relieve himself, and fast.

Draco sucked on two fingers, getting them sloppy wet, imagining them to be Harry’s fingers, sliding into the back of his trousers, into his pants and pushing roughly into his hole, pushing in and out, making it hurt a little, panting as precome dribbled onto his hand slicking his motion as he stroked himself. He closed his eyes and leaned his belly over the counter by the sink, pretending Harry was shoving him onto his desk, bending him over it. He pushed his fingers in harder, deeper, twisting his hand at the awkward angle. He’d have to drop his trousers to reach his prostate, but there was no time for that. He increased the tempo of his wanking and fucked his fingers in deep as he could manage. He stepped back from the counter and came explosively, his release hitting the sink with a splatter. Draco huffed out a relieved laugh.

“Oh, fuck, thank fuck, Harry, fuck yesssss…” he hissed with his eyes screwed shut, loving the clench around his fingers in his arse. He sagged on his shoulder against the tile wall, pulling out his fingers, and washing his hands in the sink, the evidence of his misdeed swirling down the drain. He used his wand to put his robes to rights, and waited an extra minute for his flushed face to cool, and left the loo, hoping Harry had gone home while he was away.

Bisexual? Fuck, that was news him. If Draco’s cock had anything to say about it, he would seduce Harry, and get bent over the desk as soon as possible. 

But with his cock not thinking for him at the moment, he knew it wasn’t to be, after all, they worked together. And there was just so much history between them. Sure, they’d awkwardly made amends to each other back in Auror training, but there was still tension. Harry could still reject him on principle alone. 

And if Draco wanted to be really honest with himself, if he and Harry ended up having a one-off, it would destroy him in ways he refused to even think about. Best to keep his hands to himself. Potter would never feel that way about Draco, obviously; he was still so stiff when they were alone together. But that was okay. Just knowing Harry was out there somewhere possibly shagging men had been enough to spawn several new fantasies for Draco. He wanted to race home and put on his blue outfit right away, the one with bows on the garters, and just spend some time wandering around his flat, enjoying the feel of the silk, fuck himself stupid, and then fall asleep. He could push the awkward conversation he and Harry had out of his mind for the night.

It had been disappointing when it had looked like he’d gotten Harry to open up a bit, just to suddenly shut down. Draco had taken a risk, confronting Harry’s sexuality, but he was so tired of being iced out. It made him feel small to think about it. It was like a first year being denied Harry’s attention all over again. 

Draco was halfway to the lift when he realized he left his briefcase in the office when he’d fled. He grumbled to himself and walked back the way he’d come. 

Hermione was in the hall as he approached his office.

“Hey Draco, are you coming to pub night? It’s Ron’s birthday!”

Draco could hear Weasley snort from the break room. He smirked.

“Damn it, woman, you’re losing your touch. Last month you used that excuse to get me to come out, and I don’t even like the Weasel. At least you could have faked an aunt’s death or something. You’re slipping.”

Ron hooted from the breakroom. “Ooooh, Malfoy burn! Nice one ferret!”

“Shut it, birthday boy. Where were you planning on going?” Draco wasn’t really interested, just curious.

Hermione linked arms with him and walked him the ten steps back to his office door, out of earshot of Weasley. “Three Broomsticks. Nostalgia, and whatnot. Say you’ll come with us, Draco, please?”

“Begging is beneath you, Granger. And it won’t work. I’m simply too tired and need my beauty sleep.”

“You and Harry stay up late last night? He certainly looked worn out this morning,” Hermione smiled wickedly and he shoved her, blushing. 

“Louder, wench, there’s a guy in the dungeon that didn’t hear you,” he admonished her. “We finished paperwork, pretty late, I suppose, but no more than that. Unfortunately.” He sighed dramatically. “At this rate, I’ll die alone, the poor ex-death eater Auror spinster. Maybe I’ll start breeding kneazles. And knitting.”

Hermione poked his side. “You’re a catch, you berk, don’t pretend you don’t know. Modesty is beneath you, Malfoy.” She fluttered her eyelashes in feigned innocence. Merlin, but Draco was a bad influence on her. “Anyway, see you at 8?”

Draco shook his head no and kissed her cheek goodbye, laughing to himself as she practically dragged Weasley away from the breakroom toward the lifts.

He opened the door to his office, freezing with it just cracked, suddenly assaulted with the stunning vision of Potter with his cock out, leaning back in his chair, looking like he’d just come all over himself. He didn’t look Draco’s way, seemed not to notice him in his post-orgasmic fog, so Draco closed the door quietly, and waited several moments (trying not to hyperventilate in the corridor) before rattling the doorknob in proper warning and opening the door.

Harry was standing, already dressed in his traveling cloak, about to leave, as if he hadn’t just been wanking in his desk chair. Draco wondered if he’d imagined it- but no, Harry was flushed and his eyes were glassy with hormones. He looked so good Draco wanted to lick a line from his neck to behind his ear- his breathing was still a little fast and his pupils were still dilated. Harry smiled at Draco, a small, soft one. It wasn’t his usual- it was almost... intimate. Draco had never seen that one before, but he liked it, a lot. It made his chest tight- Harry didn’t look at his friends like that, not that Draco’d seen.

“Are you coming to pub night?” Draco asked, trying to sound casual.

“I’m not. Planned to get some sleep, actually. You?”

“Same. Hermione practically begged for me to come. Using subterfuge is not her strong suit.”

Harry laughed, relaxed and easy. “It’s her birthday again?”

“Weasley’s. I put her off. Maybe next week. I really want to get home before the Holyhead Harpies game at 7.”

Harry nodded, his eyes glazing over. “Yeah, have to get home and…listen to the quidditch game.” He cleared his throat. “You’d go next week?”

Draco shrugged, his stomach fluttering. “Reckon I could make time if we aren’t slammed next week.” His mind supplied a flash of Harry slamming into him over the desk.

Harry looked thoughtful and smiled but didn’t respond, chewing his lip. He gave a small nod, either an agreement or goodbye, it was hard to tell.

Draco nodded back as Harry left the office, kind of feeling off balance. He made sure the door was closed before he went to Harry’s chair and dropped to his knees. He closed his eyes, smelling Harry’s arousal and come in the air and moaned, collapsing into the seat of Harry’s chair. He wished he had been there, on his knees in front of Harry, drawing out his orgasm using his lips and tongue. 

Oh well.

Draco stood, straightening his robes and patting his hair back in place. He wished he was the reason Harry wanked off at work, but there was no way of knowing and Draco wasn’t asking.

But he could.

If he got Harry shit-faced drunk, he could ask him outright. Maybe even ask him why he was so repulsed by Draco. Maybe he’d let Draco suck him off, even. They could blame it on the booze or something. No, that was his cock talking again, and the little horny bastard would ruin everything, so he’d keep his mouth to himself. He didn’t take advantage of anyone like that anyway, and didn’t stomach anyone who did. But he was a Slytherin and his plot to get Potter to loosen up and talk was a sound one. 

Next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	4. Malfoy's Blue Silk Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter!

********

Harry ducked behind a row of bins and flattened himself against the wall. The sound of feet running from the left signaled Draco’s advance, and Harry took his rear, protecting his back. 

Draco brandished his wand and shouted. “DMLE, place your wands on the ground, and your hands on your head and come quietly.”

Harry saw the wizard to their left almost too late. In a flash, Draco spun and crouched, firing rapid spells, _stupefying_ and binding the would-be attacker. Harry fired off two _petrificus totalus’_ over Draco’s head, bringing down the two wizards they had cornered in the alley. Their wands clattered to the ground as they stiffened and toppled. Draco stood slowly, eyes darting around, securing the area. Harry stopped to pick up the suspects’ wands when he heard a yelp.

He spun, running full speed to Draco’s side, sparing a second to fire off a spell at the fourth man who had attacked from the back. He fell, stiff. Harry ignored them all to tend to Draco.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I didn’t see him, I am so sorry, Draco!” Harry felt frantic. Draco was lying on the pavement, propped on one elbow, trying to move his robes away from a _defendo_ cut across his thigh.

“Not your fault, Potter, but see? It’s barely a scratch.” Draco’s eyes fluttered and his arm wobbled and he slumped back. Harry’s breath caught. It reminded him so much of that day in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…

“Potter!” Aurors Jones and Robards came running around the back side of the building, wands out, moving to secure the prisoners. “Malfoy okay?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry’s voice cracked as he gathered up Draco’s limp form. “I’m taking him to Mungo’s right away, have you got this?”

“Go, we’ve got it!” Robards words were lost as Harry had already apperated. 

 

The apperation point at St. Mungo’s was quiet and the medi-witch minding the desk shot up and hurried over, touching her wand to her throat and calling for healers. Draco was quickly transferred to a gurney and Harry followed as they levitated it back to surgery. A medi-witch had a large pair of scissors, Draco’s trousers in hand, ready to cut them off. Someone had given Draco’s smelling salts at that moment, and he flailed out, grabbing the witch’s hand. 

“Don’t cut them off! Don’t!” His eyes were wild.

“Mr. Malfoy, we must remove your trousers to be able to tend to your wound.”

Why was Draco so upset? They had been in this exact situation before, and Draco hadn’t cared about losing a piece of clothing- Something clicked into place. They’d gotten the call not long after they had gone home that evening, and it was possible Draco…

Harry saw the edge of a black silk stocking through the blood on his leg beneath the torn trousers. _Draco was dressed in his knickers and corset underneath his clothes- he must have not had time to change…_

Harry’s cock inappropriately took interest. He ignored it and stepped forward.

“Wait! Can you give us a moment? Put a stasis charm on that wound, and give us the room.”

“Are you a healer now, Auror Potter?” The Healer in charge looked unamused.

Harry hated to use the little authority he had, but this was important. Draco was looking at him wide-eyed and clutching his robe close to himself. 

“I am not, Healer Mathers, but I have some important case related matters to discuss quickly with Auror Malfoy, and it is Top Secret, so I _need the room_.”

He swore Draco shivered next to him when he used his authoritative voice. 

The Healer rolled her eyes and cast a spell over Draco’s leg, then shoo’d the other hospital staff out the door. 

Harry turned to Draco, biting his lip. Draco’s brows were nearly at his hairline.

“What did you do that for?” Draco sounded weary.

“We only have a minute to get you out of those knickers and stockings- they probably won’t remove your shirt, so the corset can stay.”

Draco gasped. His mouth opened and shut like a fish as Harry picked up the scissors. Draco moved his hands and nodded so Harry could get to work. He slit the tear in Draco’s trousers up to the waistband, exposing the rather nasty cut, and a slightly mangled black silk stocking. Draco wore dark blue knickers, satiny-looking, and Harry could see him becoming aroused. He blushed hard and cut the stocking away from the wound, unhooked it from the matching blue garter, vanishing it. He glanced up at Draco’s dilated eyes, tracking his tongue as it flicked out to wet his lower lip. There were so many things he wanted to do right then, but he needed to hurry. He pulled off Draco’s shoes then took the trousers off gently, Draco helping by lifting up (Harry held back a gasp at the undulation of Draco’s hips), slowly revealing the uninjured leg, looking long and lean and _perfect_. It was clad in a fine-looking black silk stocking connected to the garter with a little bow. Harry unhooked it just as carefully, though Draco could have done that himself. He felt a small pang of loss as he vanished it too. Draco’s hands were covering the knickers which were barely containing cock now, and Harry felt dizzy as blood rushed away from his brain. 

“Cut them off too,” Draco said huskily.

Harry froze, wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into this situation. 

Draco cleared his throat. “Cut them off as well. I can cover myself with my shirt and robes- I’d rather they’d think I have gone commando than…”

Harry nodded dumbly and leaned in close to snip the bands of the knickers on both sides where they thinned at the hips, turning away slightly as Draco pulled the thong out from under himself and handed it over, a curious look on his face. 

The Healer chose that moment to burst back in.

“Auror Potter, we need to close up the wound quickly to avoid infection.”

Harry shoved the knickers in his robe pocket and backed up. Draco was mumbling an apology to the medi-witch, before his usual hospital demeanor kicked in. 

“Stop that- I don’t need to remove my shirt, no need to put on a gown. The wound is hardly near my torso, isn’t it? Well, then don’t _look_! I’m sure this isn’t the first set of bits you’ve see before, or is it your first day? I plan on checking out as soon as you’ve done your job- ow, that hurts!”

Harry smirked and went out to the waiting room. His hand stayed in his pocket, his fingers running over the smooth fabric of the blue knickers, making his cock pulse. He let them go and folded his arms. He would _not_ wank in a hospital, and he wasn’t leaving without a fully healed Draco. 

It only took about an hour before the medi-witch came out to call him back, looking thoroughly annoyed. Harry suppressed a smile. Draco could be a right git with the hospital staff. They’d be glad to be rid of him.

Draco was sitting up, wearing a pair of bright green shorts. They came to just above his injury and looked ridiculous. He was scowling.

“Don’t even think about laughing, just get us out of here.”

Harry helped him up, holding back a smile, regretfully letting go of his arm so he could test weight on his legs. The potions and counter-curse worked quickly on a known curse, so Draco would barely have a scar. 

They slowly made their way to the lobby, Draco holding his red Auror robes tightly around his skinny legs. They stood in the apperation point, and Harry suddenly realized he didn’t know what to do. Draco regarded him carefully.

“Harry, would you like to go get a drink?” 

Harry blinked. It wasn’t what he expected, but it sounded good. It was still sort of early, and he was keyed up from the arrest.

“Sure, er- I...should we change and meet up?” 

Darco rolled his eyes and his lip twitched. “Obviously. The Leaky Cauldron in 30 minutes?”

Harry nodded, desperate to leave. His hand was back in his robe, clutching the knickers in his fingers. He was so hard it was beginning to hurt.

Draco gave him one last suspicious look and apperated away. Harry followed with a crack, landing in his living room. 

He headed quickly to his bedroom, discarding his robes as he went. He held tightly to the blue satin as he fumbled out of his trousers and pants, throwing himself back on his bed. He took his cock in hand and brought the knickers to his face and inhaled, flooded with Draco’s usual scent, but much stronger, and the unmistakable musky scent of arousal. Had Draco pleasured himself before they got the call from Robards? Did he have to stop in the middle of shagging himself? Was he there, on the sofa, like before, but in blue, watching in the mirror as he buggered himself, coming hard and barely being able to clean himself up before he got dressed in uniform over the blue outfit and rushed to Harry’s side? 

Harry broke into a sweat, speeding up his hand. It was a bit dry, but he couldn’t stop to get lube. He could feel himself nearing the edge, so he quickly wrapped the blue knickers around his cock, thrusting against the smooth fabric, the heat in his belly coiling tighter until he came, calling out Draco’s name loudly, leaning to the side so he wouldn’t get come on the knickers. He wanted to preserve the smell of Draco on them.

As the waves rolled slower, and then to a stop, Harry unwrapped the tangled blue fabric from his cock. It was mere seconds before the shame flooded in, making him feel even more like a giant perv. He lifted the knickers to his face, inhaling his scent lingering with Draco’s and felt like crying. 

What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just ask Draco out like a normal bloke?

Like the way Draco had just asked him out?

Harry froze. He’d been so hasty to retreat that he hadn’t read the situation as it was. Draco had asked him to get drinks. Not to work on paperwork or get lunch in the cafe in the Ministry together, but an actual _date_. Maybe. Harry was so terrible at this kind of stuff. 

But he had a feeling that there were all these pieces there and he was too close to see how they all fit together. 

Draco had gotten hard in the hospital when Harry had pulled off his trousers. Harry had spoke of the corset, and Draco was silent, so that might mean Draco knew that he knew. Draco was smart, much smarter than he at social things, _sex things_ , and he was bound to figure out Harry’s...infatuation. 

Maybe he already knew, but wasn’t interested. Harry was fucked. He needed to be honest with Draco and get the rejection out of the way so they could get back to how they were before all this mess started. 

He inhaled the knickers one last time, slumping. Might as well get dressed and head out. There was no point in putting on robes, impressing Draco would make no difference once he knew what a pervert Harry was.


	5. Silky Battle Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco plans to put his cards on the table.

*******

Draco paced the length of his small flat, turned, and paced it again. He was so worked up- he’d gotten the message with the coordinates for the raid in the middle of fucking himself open on two fingers, so he’d thrown on his Auror uniform and apperated, cock still hard and aching. He hadn’t even _scourgified_ the lube off his fingers and arsehole until he landed in the alley near Potter, just out of sight. It took him several deep breaths to calm down and push away the memory of Potter in his desk chair with his large cock out before he could whisper a plan of attack to Harry. He had to put himself into fight mode, and he’d completely forgotten he was still clad in his blue outfit under his robes. 

He looked down at the lime green shorts, scowling and vanishing them. 

_How had Potter known? And for how long had he known?_

 

Harry was a damn fine Auror, and he impressed Draco with his deduction skills regularly, but Harry was horrible at concealing anything. As obvious as purple hippogriff. 

So when had his behavior become different?

It had only been that day, really, of odd behavior, perhaps-

Harry had been a fidgety mess all day, and Draco caught him staring more than once. It was terribly arousing; thus the wank in the loo. What had changed? He’d seen him just the night before, catching up on paperwork…

Draco stopped pacing and stared at the fireplace. But had Harry _seen_ him the night before? He wracked his brain to remember if he’d closed his floo…

That flash of green Draco saw. That must have been Harry, retreating.

But how _much_ did he see? Did he get an accidental peek and duck back out, embarrassed? Or did he look longer? How much had he seen? Draco was pretty sure he’d left little to the imagination; he was fully decked out the night before. And really going to town on that purple dildo. Had he heard Draco call his name?

It really was 50/50. On one hand, Harry could have caught a horrifying glance of his Auror partner with a purple dildo in his arse, dressed in ladies knickers, and on the other, Harry could have watched the whole show up until the green flash from the floo. And enjoyed it. 

He had to know. 

Draco stood before the ornate full-length mirror that hung on the wardrobe, studying the lonely blue corset and his now fully erect cock. He stroked it idly, thinking. First he’d get off so he wouldn’t hump Potter’s leg the first chance he got. Then, he needed to get his battle armor on. Something to make him feel _confident. Powerful_.

He knew just the thing. 

********

Draco moved through the small groups of people clustered throughout the Leaky Cauldron; the normally empty dive pub was more crowded than usual on a Thursday night. He spotted a nest of black messy hair by the bar and made his way over. He grew closer and caught a full glimpse at what Harry was wearing. 

Dear Merlin, what was he wearing?

Harry had dressed down for the occasion instead of dressing up. But somehow, after seeing him in robes for over a year, Harry looked downright delicious in casual wear. He wore a white t shirt under a dark green button-down, with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. He had on faded black jeans, loose in the legs a bit, but snug in the rear, his bum looking good enough to eat. He had on those beat-up motorcycle boots Draco hated (mostly because somehow Potter could get away with wearing them), and he _still_ looked good. A beat-up leather jacket was slung over the back of his bar stool, and his hair was a mess, as usual, looking as if he’d just enjoyed a thorough shag. 

10 points to Gryffindor.

Draco sidled up to him, signaling the bartender for a firewhiskey, bumping elbows with Harry. Harry turned, liquid green eyes wide and innocent meeting Draco’s own, and Draco watched in fascination as his pupils rapidly enlarged as he hitched a breath, looking over what Draco was wearing, slowly.

50 points to Slytherin. 

Draco allowed a smirk to crawl across his face, feeling the upper hand for the first time in ages. He held up his whiskey, signaling Harry to meet his glass, and winked as they clinked together. Harry blinked and blushed, looking away, tossing back the fiery drink. 

“So, _Potter_ ,” Draco put emphasis on the P, “care to go somewhere where we can talk?”

Harry stood quickly, his stool scraping the floor loudly. 

“Yeah, I mean, sure. There’s a table over there, where we, er- can talk. At.” 

His stilted words were suddenly seemed much less uncomfortable to Draco, and so much more endearing. 

Harry knew that Draco knew that Harry knew about his secret knickers. And it clearly was making him uncomfortable in some way. But the way his eyes flitted over Draco’s form every few seconds, the way he adjusted his trousers discreetly twice since they had seated themselves in the corner of the pub, showed the discomfort in a different light. 

“See what you like, _Potter,_?” Draco purred, close to Harry’s ear.

Harry cleared his throat and looked straight ahead, his lip twitching in amusement. “Well, that’s to be expected. Have you seen what you’re wearing? Half the room is looking at your arse.”

Draco’s smirk grew to a smug grin. He knew he how he looked in the dove grey suit he donned. It was shamelessly tight, taylored so, and had cost more than his monthly pay. Twice more, in fact. The pink waistcoat and fuchsia tie he wore were a bit over-the-top, tossing him directly into the category of ‘dandy’, but that kneazle had been out of the bag for a long time- the real mystery was, _what was Potter going to do about it?_

“Well, I was hoping we’d change venue, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go dancing, and you’re going to take me.” Draco held his chin high, taking a dainty sip, knowing good and well that he was acting spoiled.

But Harry’s eyes simply widened and an easy, comfortable smile spread across his face. Draco’d seen it before, but it had never been directed at him. It was if some tension had broken. Somehow _not_ addressing the blue knickers was the same as addressing the blue knickers, and suddenly there was a shift and they were on the same page. Draco didn’t know how far the attraction went; if Harry was just out for a shag, or it was something more, but at this point, Draco was willing to play the game and see where they ended up. Even if it was just getting Harry into his bed, maybe more would come later. Maybe Harry would…

No time to think about that, he had places to go, drinks to imbibe.

Harry stood, offering Draco his arm. Draco stood as well, taking it firmly and pressing into Harry’s side, looking down into his eyes. He raised a brow challengingly, pursing his lips slightly.

“Well, _Harry_ , take me somewhere fun, and don’t be stingy on the drinks.”

Harry’s smile curled into something more hungry, and they apperated with a crack.

They landed near a club, in muggle London by the look of it, and Draco’s eyes stayed fixed on Harry’s, the two still pressed together side-by-side. Draco turned so it was their fronts pressed close instead, and watched in breathless awe as Harry slid hands up either side of Draco’s face, holding it still, and kissing him gently. It was just a press of lips, but it held so much promise. Draco couldn’t help but melt, sinking into the shorter man, allowing Harry to move his head and lick into his mouth. Harry growled and took control and Draco was just swept into it. As always, Harry drew him in like a cyclone, turning him inside out, flipping everything upside down. 

Soon they were on a packed dance floor, moving closer and closer until Draco could feel the hardness of Harry’s muscular body along his back. He ground back into him, feeling Harry’s length twitch against his thigh, and rested his head back on Harry’s shoulder, closing his eyes. They moved and swayed to the beat as Harry’s hands crawled up his torso, pausing when his fingertips touched the corset through the fabric of his waistcoat and shirt. Draco smiled, pressing back harder, looping an arm around Harry’s neck. Harry began biting kisses into his throat, almost possessively. Gods, Draco needed to slow it down if he was going to play the long game. 

Draco turned in his arms, and kissed Harry filthily, just so everyone around them knew Harry was taken, and licked his top lip. He took Harry’s hand and pulled him to the bar, ordering up a couple of the brightly colored shots in what looked like potion vials.

Harry’s eyebrow twitched in amusement. “Test tube shots? You sure? They’re awfully strong.”

Draco snorted derisively, picking out two pink ones, handing one to Harry. “I highly doubt that. Look how tiny they are! I bet I hardly feel it.”

Harry smirked. “Sometimes big things come in small packages.”

Draco eyed him, his gaze slowly traveling the length of Harry’s body. Harry stood casually, allowing the scrutiny, even as Draco’s eyes stopped at the impressive bulge in the front of Harry’s tight jeans. “See something you like, Malfoy?”

Draco gasped in mock surprise. “Harry Potter! Are you actually _flirting_ with me?”

Harry stepped closer and held up the shot. “You really want to do this?”

Draco knew it was significantly more than just the shot of pink liquid that Harry was referring to. Draco quirked a smile.

“Scared Potter?”


	6. Black and Red Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your supportive comments! Your reward is smut!
> 
> the dom/sub undertones here here specifically, all sorts of consent and aftercare for sweet Draco. 
> 
> Also, he has this kink where he likes to be squished. Just laid on top of. It's literally my favorite thing, when my significant other squishes me, I feel all safe and warm :)

Harry squinted at the sign. It was saying something about litter, maybe about it being a bad thing, but he couldn’t read it- it was all double-y. If he closed his eye, he could see it better. In fact, if he closed both eyes-

Draco jerked his arm. “Haaaaarrrrry….where are we?” 

Harry looked over at his drunken companion and smiled fondly. “I dunno. Vauxhall Arches? Lotta clubs about. Muggles. S’kay, they’re cool.” 

Draco giggled and held Harry’s arm tighter. “Muggles _are_ cool. Hey everybody!” he suddenly yelled, “I’m Draco Abraxas Lucius Malfoy and I think muggles are coooooool!”

Harry tried to shush him. “Secrecy of Statues, Draco- wait no. _Secrecy_ of Statues…”

It struck Harry as funny suddenly, and he burst out laughing, feeling so carefree, having so much fun. He didn’t quite remember how they’d gotten there, but they had hit 3 muggle and wizard gay clubs, dancing and drinking. Maybe it was 4? 

“What are we laughing about, Malfoy?” Harry swung Draco around to face him. They were holding each other up. 

“Keep up Potter, muggles are cool. We’re cool too. You’re alright I guess, for a half-blood.” Draco dissolved into giggles again, putting his weight on Harry and speaking into his neck, his breath tickling a little. “Oh, if Mother could see me now, hanging out with muggles, consorting with a half-blood, grinding my arse against him, she’d...she’d actually probably roll her eyes and ask when we were getting properly married.”

Harry laughed in delight, tightening his arms around Draco and lifting him slightly. “Are we getting married now? Brilliant, let’s get married before Herm-i-nee and Roonil Wazlib and steal all the thunder. And lightning.”

“Very very frightening!” Draco screeched at the sky, swinging away and waving his free hand wildly.

“Galileo!” came about five different voices up and down the street, and about half the patrons and a piss drunk Draco and Harry sang to the end of _Bohemian Rhapsody_. Harry liked that Draco knew the song. 

“Where shall we have our nuptials? Oh Merlin’s lacy knickers!” Draco was laughing hard again, fighting to get words out. “Could you imagine everyone’s faces? You in dress robes, me in a long white dress? I look dreadful in white.”

Harry broke into giggles as well. “A white dress, a bouquet, and heels, strutting down the aisle, long leg peeking out the dress…” Harry stared off into space, lost in the fantasy for a moment. Draco poked him.

“Potter, let’s find somewhere to take a nap. I need a nappy-poo. You like a nappy-poo too?”

Harry laughed again, pulling him close and kissing his chin. “I’m too pissed to aparate, but I bet we can use the floo in the back of Wands.” Wands was an underground wizard gay club nearby, they might have already been there. Harry couldn’t remember. 

They staggered down the street, arms slung around each other, singing, “We Are the Champions,” having a hard time remembering any words but ‘we are the champions’. Then everything went sort of gray.

 

********

Harry woke to the shrill alarm on his wand, signaling him that he had 30 minutes to get out the door or he’d be late to work. He groaned and flicked a wandles silencing charm at it and tightened his arms around the warm body he was wrapped around. 

Well, that was unexpected. 

He fumbled for his glasses, finding them on the table beside the bed, wracking his brain for any snippets of the night before, but came up with just a swirl of color and touching and laughing. He pulled slightly back and gasped at the pale soft but muscular back tucked against him. Also a very pink, very lovely corset. He ran his hands over it a second, relishing the moment before he broke the silence and woke up Draco.

Harry ran a fingertip up Draco’s arm, feeling his soft skin. He wanted to bury his face in Draco’s neck, but if Draco remembered as little of the night before as Harry did, he might not be okay with it.

“Mmm. Don’t stop,” grumbled Draco sleepily when Harry took his hand away. He brought it back and ran his fingers along Draco’s skin again, watching as goosebumps rose at his touch. 

“Draco.” Harry stated his name, like listing the facts of a situation, not asking a question. 

“Harry.” Draco must have at least a little memory of the night before.

“Say, Draco, did we shag last night? I don’t think we did, but I just wanted to know if you knew.”

Draco chuckled. “Nope. You were a perfect drunken gentleman. I’m pretty sure we were way too pissed to manage, anyway. I think I might still be a little drunk.”

Harry wanted to scoot forward and line his body up with Draco’s but the moment seemed fragile somehow, yet comfortable. It had been good, deep sleep, as far as he could tell.

“I think we’re going to be late to work,” Harry said, moving his fingers to touch lightly over Draco’s back. 

“Mmm. S’okay. I called us out sick. Cough, cough.” Draco snorted.

“How’d Robards feel about that?”

“Well, considering how many suspects we brought in last night, I don’t think it will be a problem. Just this once.”

Harry bit his lip. “So what do you want to do today?”

Draco wiggled until he turned over, facing Harry, hair a wild mess, eyes beautiful in the morning light. Harry stroked the side of his face. 

“I can think of a few things,” Draco said in that dry off-handed way that meant excitement was just under the surface. “Just let me track down some hangover potion.”

He leaned over Harry to reach the bedside table, practically rolling on top of him. Harry saw a flash of faded black- the dark mark- he’d seen it before, but never so close. Something about it thrilled Harry- it starkly reminded him how far they had come to reach where they were. The first time he saw it, that night in the Astronomy Tower, was the first time he realized what he knew about Draco and how he felt about him were much more complicated than ‘childhood rival’. He didn’t know if he loved him yet, but it planted something fierce in his heart that never left.

Draco pressed down onto Harry as he opened the drawer. Harry’s cock had already taken notice, especially since Draco was wearing the corset. 

Pink. Harry started chuckling. Draco paused his rummaging and raised a brow. “What?”

“Pink, the whole night was pink.” Harry ran his hands over the delicate lace edging of the corset, liking how it felt under his fingers.

Draco handed him a small glass vial and one for himself, already uncorked. Harry tossed it back and settled back into the pillow, letting the potion do its job. The magic swirled around his core. He turned on his side to face Draco again, feeling decidedly sober again. 

“So…” Harry drawled, unsure what to say, as usual.

“So.” Draco pursed his lips in feigned annoyance. “You suddenly knew how to talk to me last night. I remember that much. I remember drinking too much, I remember some place with railway arches and fabulous clubs, I remember bringing you here and getting you out of those wretchedly tight jeans- I really needed a spell for that but I was too drunk and didn’t want to vanish your bollocks by accident. You said I looked beautiful, and we fell asleep. That’s about all. Now you.”

Harry smiled a little, feeling relieved. “I guess I remember obsessing, before you even arrived at the Leaky, about the fact that I can’t talk to you, but that was before... Then the clubs and dancing. You were very concerned on why I found you repulsive, and no matter what, you refused to believe I find you very attractive.” Harry blushed, fighting the urge to hide his face at his confession. “For some reason I remember singing Queen songs and talking about marriage.” That was pretty close to the truth.

Draco stretched, writhing slightly, seeming unperturbed by the marriage comment. He yawned, making Harry yawn too. His lythe body was laid out like a buffet and Harry wanted to taste. He wasn’t sure what to do at that point. 

Draco was watching him.

“Harry, I have a confession.”

Harry’s brows went up. That should be his line.

“I came back into the office and saw you had just wanked.”

Harry turned seven shades of red. He’d felt so out of control after being so close to Draco that he’d taken a risk and got off at his desk. He had been glad that Draco had come back after he’d finished up, but apparently not.

“I, er-”

“It’s okay, Harry, it was by far the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Harry huffed a laugh. This coming from a man who dressed wickedly sexy and pleasured himself in the most decadent ways possible.

“Well, then I have a confession for you as well.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. “You mean the blue knickers I found in your coat pocket? You may keep them, if you like.”

Harry covered his blushing face with his arm and groaned while absently pushed his cock down with his palm, suddenly realizing he was naked except for his pants. 

“No, actually…” Harry braced himself for a uncertain reaction. “The other night I thought I’d left my wallet and your floo was open, so I.... saw you.”

Draco grinned wickedly. “What exactly did you see?”

Harry’s heart was pounding. “You were in a purple corset. And black stockings. And purple knickers. And a...er. Purple dildo. You were on the sofa.”

Draco sat up, his breathing quickening, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks flushed. His pale skin looked amazing in pink.

“And what did you do?”

Harry sat up too, turning to face Draco head on. He steeled himself. 

“It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Fuck, Draco I’m sorry, but I wanked with my head in the floo, I couldn’t help it. The way you fucked yourself on that thing- you almost saw me, I backed out before you came.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully, as if he didn’t already somehow seem to know all this already. 

“That’s _very_ interesting, Harry” he purred, starting to crawl toward Harry, the sheet slipping to show a dark pink pair of thong knickers. The stockings were absent, he must not have worn them out the night before. Draco rose to his knees and turned, showing off the line of his back and the way the thong nearly disappeared into his firm, round backside. He looked over his shoulder at Harry, his pupils growing fast. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful.

Harry rose to his knees as well, moving to kneel behind Draco, his thighs pressing the insides of Draco’s as they spread further open. He watched Draco’s skin break into goosebumps as he breathed on his neck, kissing the marks he made in the club the night before. He ran his fingers along the edge of lace on the corset, across Draco’s chest, skimming over his nipples with his finger nails. Draco shuddered and arched into the touch, his left arm coming up to caress the back of Harry’s head, the other relaxing at his side. Harry turned his head when his eye caught the Dark Mark again. He kissed it gently, then bit it, and Draco shuddered under him.

“I want you, Harry,” Draco whispered, his head falling back, his eyes fluttering shut.

“What do you want, love?” Harry continued his light touch, waiting for permission to go further.

“I want _everything,_ I want you to touch me, I want to dress up for you, dance for you. I want you to bend me over, open me up and slide into me. I want you to fuck me roughly, pulling my hair. I want you tearing at my knickers, spanking me for being bad. I want you to bite me, mark me, let everyone know I belong to you. I want you to hold me down, hold me still, fuck me slow, deep, make me come screaming your name. I want to feel your magic in me, inside me. I want... _everything._ ” 

Harry was panting by the time Draco was finished. He’d slowly ran his hands up and down Draco’s body as he spoke, until he grabbed him by the hips, flipping Draco onto his back, taking his slender wrists in one hand and pinning them down above Draco’s head. He laid the entire length of his body on Draco, simply holding him down, not forcefully, but completely covering him. Draco stayed perfectly still, only slowly opening his thighs until Harry was nestled between them. Draco let out a long breath that sounded like a pleasurable sigh. Harry gently ground his hips down, feeling their cocks lined up, separated only by silk and cotton. 

“Now you,” Draco asked softly, the insecurity evident in his voice.

Harry rose slightly and smiled down at him, dipping in to lick at his earlobe, kiss his neck lightly. Draco gasped arching up into him.

“I want _everything_ too, Draco. I want to touch you whenever I want. I want to kiss you whenever I want.” Harry hovered his lips over Draco’s keeping them just out of reach. “I want you to dress up for me, I want to see all of your beautiful clothes, only for me. I want to hold you down, fuck you through the mattress, make you scream my name as you come with my cock inside you, filling you full. I want to fuck you with every single toy you own. I want you to feel safe. I want you to feel taken care of. I want you to know, that no matter what, I will never hurt you. I want you to know how I feel about you, how I’ve felt about you for a very long time.”

Draco was a writhing mess under him, thrusting up at every new revelation, trying to get friction. Harry kissed his way across Draco’s clavicle, sucking marks, licking them. He finally raised his face close enough for Draco to arch up and connect their lips. Harry was forceful, pushing his tongue in, lapping up Draco’s moans, pressing his cock firmly against Draco’s and rolling his hips. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s back. 

Harry stopped and sat up releasing Draco’s hands. “Where are the shoes?”

Draco sat up on his elbows and pouted. His lower lip stuck out a little, and Harry was torn between kissing that off his face and getting the shoes.

“All the way in the living room.”

Harry laughed. “It’s all one room. I want you to dress in your best silk, including shoes. And I want it now.” Harry gave Draco his best Senior Auror Don’t-Fuck-With-Me Face. Draco moaned and shivered. 

Draco sprang up, dragging Harry off the bed, eyeing his tented pants and licking his lips, leading Harry to the sofa and pushing him back onto it. Harry smirked, leaning back, his arms spread across the back cushions. Draco disappeared behind the folding screen, the wireless coming on, switching to the blues station. Harry took the opportunity to slip out of his pants, his cock springing free, the tip wet already. He stroked it slowly, watching the movements of Draco behind the screen, getting ready for him.

A long, stocking-clad leg showed itself from behind the screen, a cherry red pump on his foot, high and pointed. The leg disappeared. It reappeared, joined by its twin, and Harry let his eyes crawl slowly up Draco’s body, taking in every detail- the rose red garter, the black satin knickers, the red corset with black laces and lace detail. Draco’s hair was still tousled, a far cry from the neat way he kept it when he worked. It was longer on the top and tumbled across one eye, the other burning with hunger. Draco swung his hips in time with the music, undulating them, stopping to turn and bend to touch his toes, then flipping up, looking over his shoulder at Harry, licking his fingertips and running them down his throat. Harry groaned and pressed the base of his cock as it throbbed. 

Draco came closer, and straddled Harry’s lap, grinding down on his bare cock, catching his mouth in a deep kiss. Harry gripped his arse, spreading his cheeks, grinding his cock on his hole with just the strip of black satin between them. Draco moaned and threw his head back. Harry rutted against him, then pushed him down. Draco slid willingly between Harry’s thighs, kneeling in front of him, so close to where Harry wanted him. 

“That’s it, so good, Draco, so good for me. You look sexy as fuck, yeah? You look like that just for me, no one else. I’m going to bend you over this sofa and fuck you until you can’t walk. But first, you’re gonna suck my cock. You’re going to suck it until I come in your mouth, then you’re gonna suck it until I get hard again. I’m going to open you up nice and slow, and then I’m going to fuck you.”

Draco moaned as he listened, sweat on his brow, glistening on his chest as he breathed over Harry’s cock, waiting. His hips seemed to be thrusting on their own, trying to get friction from the knickers. The head of his cock was now peeking out of the top. Harry licked his lips, wanting to taste him, but that would wait.

Harry caressed Draco’s face, bringing his mouth to the head of his cock. Draco looked up at him and Harry leaned back again, letting Draco do what he wanted. Draco lapped around the head of his cock, flicking his tongue, pressing the tip to Harry’s slit, lapping up the precome, sucking on it gently. Harry moaned and cursed, keeping his hips still as possible. He was sweating with the effort, crying out as Draco finally sank down, taking Harry’s shaft into his mouth. The silky feel of Draco’s throat was heaven.

“Fuck, love, that feels amazing. You’re so good, so beautiful, look at you. I wish you could see yourself.”

Draco’s eyes twitched to the right and Harry saw a mirror positioned at the end of the sofa. He reached over and pulled it out, turned on that Draco wanted to watch himself. He angled it on the sofa next to him so Draco could see as he twisted and sucked, deep-throating Harry, then sucking on his balls. Harry loved the way Draco’s confidence seemed to increase when he could see himself blow Harry, and he found himself close to the edge. 

“Oh fuck, look at you, love, your mouth stretched wide, your lips red. Fuck, oh Merlin, I’m gonna come, are you going to make me come?”

Draco moaned around his cock, increasing his pace and suction, pulling Harry over the edge, suddenly backing off to let Harry watch his come hit Draco’s face and tongue. Harry moaned and spurt again. Draco rubbed Harry’s cock head over the come on his tongue and lips, smearing it, then licking it off, swallowing it down. He still had come on his chin when Harry dragged him up into his lap and kissed him deeply, licking off his come, sucking Draco’s tongue. Draco was whining into Harry’s mouth, grinding his silk-clad cock against Harry’s soft one. 

“Come on, love, let’s get me hard again and we can take care of you.”

Draco moaned at the use of a pet name, and move off Harry’s lap instantly. He seemed to like riding the edge. Harry pushed him down to the floor again, his over sensitive cock still a bit hard. 

Draco put his soft cock in his mouth, sucking and teasing his foreskin, running his tongue under it, sucking it all the way in and swallowing around it easily. It was so sensitive it was almost painful, but Draco was so earnest that his cock began to take notice, twitching in Draco’s mouth, swelling slightly. It would take a while to get completely hard, but Harry just wanted to see Draco like this, desperate to please Harry, even though he was fighting off his own orgasm. Harry felt he suffered enough, and pulled Draco up again. 

“There are more mirrors, yeah?” 

Draco nodded, his eyes so dark. He motioned to another one tucked behind the side table. Harry pulled it out and set it at the other arm of the sofa. Now Draco would be able to see himself from three angles. Harry placed him in the position he had been the night he’d caught him with the purple dildo, legs spread wide, arse cheeks flexing and limbs trembling with effort. 

Harry ran his finger tips down Draco’s back, over the corset, causing him to shiver. He ran a finger all the way to Draco’s hole, moving the thong to the side to see that perfect pink pucker. Harry’s cock started to fill more watching Draco flex his arsehole. Harry pressed a dry finger against it, massaging the muscles, smiling at Draco in the mirror to the right as he tried to thrust back on it, make it go in dry. Harry shook his head, picking up his wand from the coffee table and casting a lubrication spell into his palm. He slicked his middle finger and slid it along Draco’s crevice, massaging his hole again, this time letting Draco push back onto it, slipping it in easily up to the second knuckle. Draco gasped and whined, twisted to watch the mirror over the fireplace. Harry moved so he could get a better view and pumped slowly in and out. Draco spread his legs further, canting his hips out, letting Harry search for his prostate. Harry knelt down, Draco’s arse inches from his face, and he licked and bit Draco’s arse cheeks as he continued to fuck him with a finger. He felt Draco grip his finger, almost pulling it in on its own, and Draco whined. 

“Please, more, please.”

Harry kissed Draco’s inner thigh gently, pulling the finger and adding another. Draco cried out, bracing himself on the sofa as Harry sped his hand up, thrusting harder, deeper, rougher than before.

“Fuck, yessssss, Harry, fuck, that feels so good. Fuck me, please, let me come.”

“Patience, love, I’ll fuck you, but I want you to come first before I fuck you. I want you all loose and relaxed. I want you to feel amazing, then I’ll make you come again.”

Draco was moaning beyond words as Harry found his prostate and pressed a finger to it, rubbing hard in small circles. Harry reached under Draco’s balls and pulled his cock from the knickers, dripping with precome, hard and smooth like velvet. Draco thrust against his hand, his thighs shaking hard, trying to hold himself up.

Harry took pity on him and laid him on his stomach, his limbs loose and trembling. Harry pulled out his fingers, pulled his hips up, spreading his legs, and giving into temptation and flicking his wand over Draco’s hole, cleaning up some of the lube, and shoving his tongue into Draco’s flexing hole. 

“Fuck yes!” Draco screamed into the sofa. “Oh my gods, fuck me on your tongue, just like that, yes Harry!”

Harry twisted his tongue in, thrusting it in and out, grazing his teeth over Draco’s rim. He sucked on Draco’s perineum hard before shoving three fingers back into Draco. He watched in awe as Draco’s hole spasmed around his fingers as he battered his prostate. Harry was still stroking Draco’s cock; he the totally wrong angle to get it in his mouth, but he’d have to just improvise. He could feel Draco nearing the edge. He had his left hand buried in Draco’s arse, while kneeling on the floor. There was just enough space where Draco’s hips were up in the air that Harry shoved his head in, turned to the left catching just the tip of Draco’s cock in his mouth. Draco cried out, coming as Harry sucked one time, pushing Draco down on top of his head, letting him fuck Harry’s mouth to ride out his orgasm. His hole clamped and fluttered on Harry’s hand, making Harry’s cock throb with the desire to get inside him. Draco moaned, thrusting his hips two more times deeply into Harry’s mouth, the last spurts of come landing in Harry’s throat. He greedily swallowed it down, sucking at the tip until Draco jerked his hips back with a gasp and breathy laugh. Harry pulled his head out, his glasses crooked and probably bent. He took them off and set them aside, still keeping his three fingers in Draco, holding him open. He muttered another lube spell. 

“Draco, baby, did you like that?”

Draco mumbled into the cushion, and nodded his head.

“Draco, love, can I see your face?”

Draco turned to look at Harry, tears in his eyes.

“Baby, did I hurt you?” Harry moved his fingers, preparing to pull the out.

“No! No, don’t take them out, they feel really good. I’m fine really. Harry, that was… amazing. I don’t know how to…”

“Shh, it’s ok, love, we’ll talk later. I want to fuck you now, can we do that?”

Draco moaned, his eyes rolling back, and he thrusted back on Harry’s fingers again. “Yes, Harry, take me please, can we on the bed? Please?”

Harry assessed getting to the bed without removing his fingers from Draco’s arse. Draco looked up, and fumbled for Harry’s wand.

“ _Accio_ pink plug!” Draco called.

Harry heard a thumping as Draco’s bedside table opened and pink object flew across the room. Harry snatched it out of the air and Draco smiled cheekily at him. 

“There, now you can move me.”

Harry smirked. He smeared the lube escaping Draco’s hole on the butt plug and carefully exchanged it for his fingers. The plug went in easily, the wide part having to be worked in a little, and Draco moaned shamelessly as Harry pressed it in. The flared base was snug against Draco’s body. All you could see was a pink circle. He covered it with the thong and tucked Draco’s now half-hard cock back into the knickers, sparing a second to let Draco clean up with a twitch of Harry’s wand. 

He scooped up Draco; though he was taller, he was more slender, and Harry had no trouble carrying him bridal style to the bed. 

Bridal. Hmm. He had a vague memory of talk of a wedding dress… 

Harry laid Draco down on his back, smiling down at him as he stretched like a cat and smirked. He pointed one long finger at the ceiling, and Harry looked up. Of course there was a mirror up there, reflecting the perfection that was Draco Malfoy in a corset and knickers. Harry climbed on the bed, grabbing the red heels, pulling them up to rest Draco’s heels on his shoulders. He pulled off the knickers slowly, over just one foot, leaving them dangling on the other ankle. He reached down and pressed the plug, making Draco arch his back and cry out, begging Harry to fuck him again. Harry teased him a little more, but his own cock was hard and ready. He took his time pulling out the plug, teasing his cock back into hardness by pressing his thumb over Draco’s slit, driving Draco the the edge. Draco tried to grab it and take it out himself, so Harry took his wrists again and was to keep his hands above his head. Draco pouted but followed directions, and spread his legs wider. Harry licked up and down the silk stockings, biting and sucking on Draco’s thighs through the delicate fabric. He removed the plug finally and made more lube, using his fingers to push some inside Draco, teasing his rim again, finding the angle where his prostate was, and slathered lube on his cock. Draco was begging by the time Harry hauled him up into his lap, wrapping his legs around his waist. Draco grabbed Harry’s shoulders and kissed him, slow and lazy, he must have been tired, and Harry was going to make sure he slept soundly. Harry kept a finger teasing Draco’s hole as they kissed, marveling at how it fluttered. He lowered Draco onto his cock, the tight slick hole gripping him as he pressed all the way in. Draco threw his head back, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry held still, running his hands all over the corset. He wound his fingers in the lacing, yanking it suddenly, tightening it, Draco cried out, his hole clenching down.

“Do it again,” Draco gasped.

Harry yanked the laces at the same time lifted Draco, sliding almost all the way out, then slid home hard. Draco screamed, looking up at himself in the mirror, tightening his thighs and pushing back down as Harry thrust up. 

“Fuck, Draco, your’re so tight baby, gonna make me come, gonna come deep in you,” Harry was moaning, holding on tighter, moving Draco back a little at the hips, searching for the bundle of nerves that was like the golden snitch- if he got it, game over- Draco would come like a rocket. He wanted to make sure Draco came first this time, wanted him to feel good. 

Draco cried out when Harry found it, shouting Harry’s name over and over, and Harry felt the moment it happened, the swell of Draco’s cock where it was squeezed between them, the spasm of his hole as he crescendoed. Draco came against Harry’s belly, smearing it on the both, and the red corset. Harry felt his hole clamp down with the first spasm of the orgasm and he pushed Draco on his back, fucking into him with vigor, allowing Draco to turn to jelly while Harry fucked him through it. Draco was smiling up at him as he rode his high, pliant, his eyes soft, loving. Harry had never seen anyone look at him like that, that open. It was that look that sent him over the edge, the heat in his belly rocketing through the base of his spine, his magic coalescing in his cock- he could feel the intensity of it gathering there, and the release, pumping into Draco, calling his name out, telling him how beautiful he was, how perfect, how he wanted him forever. Draco watched his face, never looking at the mirror, watching him come apart, kissing his lips, his nose, his chin, as he rocked his way through it. 

Harry collapsed on top on Draco and let Draco adjust his limbs so his weight was distributed evenly over his body. Draco sighed happily when he was fully covered, being squished under Harry.

They lay that way for several minutes. Harry lifted up to kiss Draco slowly, sensually, pouring all the pent up emotions he’d been holding back for years. Draco touched his back with light fingers, giving him chills. He looked down at his lover.

“You like it when I squish you?”

“Yessss...I love it. It makes me feel, I don’t know, safe. Like I can disappear into you and no one can get me. It’s the best place in the world.”

Harry could see that Draco was drifting in subspace a bit, so he used Draco’s wand to summon some oranges from the kitchen and bottles of water. He peeled the oranges and fed the segments to Draco, giving him sips of water from a bottle, cleaning him up as he went, removing the stockings, shoes, and the corset. He was beautiful completely bare, even with the lines all over his skin from where the corset dug in, and Harry worshiped his body with his lips and tongue, not trying to arouse Draco, but comfort him. Draco curled into him and they fell asleep together naked, their skin still buzzing with their combined magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue next!


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone <3<3<3

“Look at the two of you! You know you’re not supposed to look better than the bride!” Hermione slapped Draco’s arm fondly. He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. 

“Darling, you look amazing. But I can’t help it if people naturally admire me- ow!” Draco shot Harry a look, rubbing the spot on his arse Harry had pinched. 

“Now, Draco, you should probably stop with ‘you look amazing.’ It’s her wedding and she could get away with hexing your bollocks off and no one would bat an eye.” Harry smirked back at him.

Ron chuckled. “She’d do it too, mate, she spent forever picking out the perfect dress- and I have to say…” Weasley stepped back, looking at his wife’s body appreciatively. “ _Damn._

Hermione giggled and kissed her husband’s mouth. “Damn right, ‘damn’, Ron, and I’ll have you know, I was thinking the same thing about your arse in those trousers. Can’t wait to see them on my floor.”

Draco had to admit the Weasel looked pretty good in his suit. He had taken Draco’s advice about the taylor. And Hermione had taken his advice in the lingerie boutique. Ron was in for quite a surprise later that night. 

The new Granger-Weasley couple started snogging in earnest.

Harry made a gagging sound and pushed Draco by the waist out onto the parquet dance floor. The band had started up since most everyone had finished their meal. Couples moved out onto the dance floor, laughing and relaxed. The fairy lights strung around the massive tent were twinkling, and enchanted flowers hung everywhere, changing color with the music. It was beautiful. 

Harry pulled him in close, letting Draco take control of the dance. Harry barely even stepped on his toes. 

“You’re getting better, Harry. You’ve been practicing?” Draco raised an amused eyebrow.

Harry smirked. “No, I just know when to let you lead. It’s quite sexy, you know.” His eyes darkened.

Draco tossed his head back and laughed. “Keep it in your pants, Potter. Our bosses are here, and they’re looking.” As if to punctuate his remark, Draco pulled Harry in tight, then dipped him slightly and put him in a spin. 

“Show off,” Harry mumbled, slightly blushing. Draco laughed and kissed him gently. It was sweet and tender, so Harry had to ruin it by pressing his hardening cock into Draco’s hip. 

“Harry- can you just, for one minute-”

“No I can’t,” Harry whined in his ear. “I know what you’re wearing under there and it’s driving me mad. Let’s go to the loo or something.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation, not fooling Harry one bit. “Alright, but make it quick, they’re doing the cake soon. And Hermione’s throwing the flowers, and I have a personal stake in that- I’ll knock half these old maids to get at them, I’ll not miss it because I’m shagging in the loo.”

Harry was already dragging him out of the tent to the back door of the Burrow. Minutes later, Draco was bent over the counter in the guest washroom, watching Harry in the mirror as he pounded into him, biting Draco’s neck and moaning his name. Harry’s hand slid along Draco’s left arm, his fingers coming to a stop on the platinum engagement band on Draco’s fourth finger. He wove their fingers together, bands clicking against each other as Harry pulled a brilliant orgasm from Draco, right hand shoved down the front of his purple knickers, whispering his love as they tumbled over the edge together.


End file.
